


Knights and Lords

by AboveReality



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, Original Character Death(s), Romance, Slight change of plot, Space Battles, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-05 04:02:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10297004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AboveReality/pseuds/AboveReality
Summary: General Hux and his predecessors believed that a strong trooper was born and trained, not created from a tube like in the Clone Wars. Unyielding loyalty was expected from each and every one of them. FN-4026 once harboured such loyalty, until the doubt and guilt took over.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my mother language so please bear any grammatical errors. I will try to keep them to a minimum. 
> 
> The story will start up slow, building up and creating depth throughout its chapters. Enjoy!

There she was. After training her entire life, this was it.  
  
Her first mission.  
  
She breathed deeply through her helmet, sweat already trickling down her left temple despite the suit’s cooling system, and swallowed thickly. Nerves churned and nestled themselves in her stomach as she stood between the rest of the troopers of her regiment, most of them more experienced and hardened than she. The ship rumbled underneath her feet, despite its own gravitational field that prevented them to be thrown around, she could still feel their descend to the planet.  
  
‘ _Search and extract._ ’   
  
Those simple orders echoed in her head. Search and extract what, she did not know, but she knew that her Captain would. The said individual’s voice echoed in her helmet’s radio.  
  
“When we land, crush down any sort of resistance,” his deep voice resonated. “Round-up the villagers and await further orders.”  
  
“Yes sir!” Echoed throughout the ship.  
  
By the time the ship touched the ground, her grip on her rifle was almost painful. The hydraulics hissed like snakes when the doors opened and light flooded inside the dark confinement of the ship’s hull, it would have blinded them if not for the helmet’s dark visor.   
  
With her blood rushing thickly in her ears she walked down the ramp, stance straight and rigid like the full-fledged trooper that she was. Rounding up the villagers and securing the village’s lockdown was an easy enough task. The slaughter that followed wasn’t.  
  
The First Order was ruthless. Loyalty and discipline was expected of everyone within its ranks or ties to the Order. Liars and traitors were dealt with accordingly and villages were set as an example for those who harboured such rebellious thoughts. Unforgiven.  
  
With the past hour just a blur in her head, she felt the ship come back to life underneath her feet and once again she was squeezed between the others of her regiment. All stone, cold statues of order and discipline. Each and every one of them stripped from their identity and reduced to just a series of numbers that would stick by them the entirety of their probably short lives.  
  
Dread started to envelop her blood pumping organ and clench down onto it like a vice when the ship started to lift. It caused her breaths to come out in short, shallow rasps only audible in her own ears.   
  
This was her first mission as a Stormtrooper. And she was sure many more would follow.  


* * *

  
“FN-4026.”  
  
The deep metallic voice of her Captain caused her to turn around and salute, posture straight. The rest of her regiment marched on, towards the barracks to clean up their rifles and armour. Her captain stared down at her, the black visor of his helmet depthless. He was just a few centimetres taller and she had to slightly tilt her head to meet up his gaze.   
  
“Yes, sir?”  
  
“Follow me.”  
  
Without explaining why he turned and marched off, and she followed like it was expected of her. His armour was still the pristine white as it always was, and she almost felt out of place with hers being dirty and containing blood specks here and there that were a cruel reminder of what happened earlier.  
  
Images of screaming people holding up their arms in a futile attempt to defence themselves of the onslaught of her blaster fire flashed before her eyes. The rifle that she held on to was heated in her memories, smoke coming from the barrel due to the excessive use. Though her helmet could filter smoke, she had still smelled the burning.   
  
After several corridors they halted inside an elevator. Captain punched in a few buttons and the doors closed. A small tremor in the floor indicated that they were moving upwards, towards the command centres. The elevator ride was silent, leaving her to her thoughts.  
  
FN-4026 had never ventured there. Reason number one was that it was unnecessary because her regiment did not operate nor was needed there. Her Captain was not of exceptionally high importance, the regiment was more training focused and held the simplest of tasks. Reason number two was that she would do anything to avoid that place. Kylo Ren and General Hux roamed those halls. Both she had not talked to personally, only observed from afar, but it was enough to put her on edge. Her being did not like the vibe both of them were putting off.  
  
They exited the elevator in an orderly fashion, passing several patrols of Stormtroopers and down some more hallways. The black floor gleaming and reflecting their white suits. Finally they rounded a corner and stopped in front of a door. Her captain pushed a button on the console next to it and with a small ping the door hissed open. He motioned for her to follow inside.  
  
Captain Phasma was a fearsome woman, towering above all with incredible height. Her gleaming chrome armour and black cloak, that was draped over one shoulder, amplified her frightening image. She was known for her brutality, training her own troops hard and demanding but with results. They were one of the best regiments and she took personal orders from Kylo Ren and General Hux themselves. Making them also an important asset to the First Order. And right now, FN-4026 found herself in the company of this notorious captain.  
   
“Ah, Captain Rosco,” Captain Phasma started and turned to them. The white light above them reflecting on her armour. “Thank you for bringing unit FN-4026 on such a short notice.”  
  
Her captain nodded in response and turned to her. “Captain Phasma, will be your commanding officer from now on,” he stated. She regarded her Captain silently for a second, unsure how to react properly. Questions bubbled up inside her, but she did not know how to form them without seeming disobedient.  
  
“Yes, sir. May I ask why?”  
  
“Because I requested for you personally, soldier.” It was the only answer that was given on her question and not hailing from her old Captain. As a good Stormtrooper, FN-4026 accepted it, though a small voice in the back of her mind was still a bit bugged by it. The voice was squelched down easily.   
  
Captain Phasma took a few steps towards them, easily looking down at both of them. FN-4026 felt uncomfortable when the Captain’s dark gaze solely set on her.   
  
“Thank you Captain Rosco, you may leave.”  
  
The man saluted, turned and marched away. Even without saying goodbye, good luck or any of the sort.  
  
It was another chapter ending of her short life.  
  
She remembered the training runs. He had been unrelenting and drilling most of her regiment to an almost breaking point, holding no expense for the rookies. But after each time she came out stronger than before and with the brief memory a small flicker of pride and respect passed through her.  
  
After Captain Phasma went over what she expected from her as a member of her regiment, she was dismissed. The walk towards the barracks was almost robotic. She unclasped her armour, piece by piece and cleaned it in a precise but in a severely routine motion that was effective and fast. It dulled her thoughts and emotions like she was trained to do.  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long chapter to deepen FN-4026 and her thoughts out. It will get easier later on.

The Stormtrooper. A powerful and elite militia, known for serving the former glorious Galactic Empire and now the current First Order with fierce loyalty. Some considered them superior of the Clone troopers, others equals, but they were feared nonetheless.   
  
“FN-2003, **MOVE**!”  
  
Her breathing was hard in her ears. Her strides were long, powerful and fast as she ran from cover to cover. Branches scraping across the surface of her armour.  
  
“Flanking!”  
  
“We need covering fire!”  
  
General Hux and his predecessors believed that a strong trooper was born and trained, not created from a tube, and selected very carefully. Families from every planet in First Order space, were monitored and had to follow strict protocol. The families who were deemed to produce promising offspring were visited once a year by an official. If a child showed traits that could lead them to be an excellent trooper they were extracted by the age of 5.  
  
FN-4026 pressed herself against a thick tree, stilling her heart beat and calming down her breathing in a moment’s notice. “Giving covering fire!” She shouted through her radio and leaned out to fire at the heavy repeating blaster, distracting it so that the rest of her team could flank it.  
  
From the moment they were extracted training began, not only physically but also mentally. Sacrificing their lives, future and identity to the First Order and their ideals. A Stormtrooper served and fought, they did not think and were taught to leave the wounded behind to keep pressing forward. To keep their barrage of death continuous and ruthless. It was a trait that instilled terror into the hearts of their enemies..  
  
“Well done,” Captain Phasma’s voice echoed over the radio. “FN-2187, please report to me immediately.”  
  
As she and the rest of her team appeared, some talking and some silent, their environment seemed to experience static. There was a flicker and all the trees, under bush and the bunker that they had infiltrated all disappeared, revealing a large metal room devoid of any type of furniture. High above there was an observation window, where Captain Phasma stood hands clasped behind her back dressed as always in the chrome and black. Watching them like a hawk.  
  
Their team leader, FN-2187, hurried towards the blast doors, leaving them open as he rounded the corner to report to their captain.   
  
It had been hard for FN-4026 to let go of the visions of the village the first weeks. They’d plagued her mind each time she closed her eyes to sleep or when she was daydreaming when marching. Eventually the images turned into blurs and disappeared all-together. She no longer felt emotions when thinking back about it. It had been her duty to the First Order to execute them.  
  
“And Slip is once again saved by his hero!” A mean voice drawled from next to her.  
  
A lone trooper with his suit unusually battered and smeared with dirt almost scowled, as much as he could portray his body language in the white armour. “Shut up!” He sneered back.  
  
It was now several months that FN-4026 was serving under Captain Phasma. The Captain lived up to her reputation of being a pain, but despite the challenge she felt more in shape and capable of her abilities than she had ever felt under Captain Rosco’s reign. It showed on the field and the effectiveness she completed missions with some of the seniors on her team. Thankfully it was most of the time patrolling or investigating on the nearby planets, but her sharp wit had earned the First Order a few extra Rebel prisoners for ‘questioning’.  
  
FN-4026 thanked the greater powers out there that it wasn’t her job to do _that_.  
  
But the team dynamics were different than her former. Less silent and more prone to banter than she personally liked. It made them stronger as a whole due to the bond with each other, but the risk of knowing a person came with the price of developing outcasts. Like poor Slip.  
  
Slip, or FN-2003, was not the ideal Stormtrooper. He was loyal, yes, proved himself to be an exceptional infiltrator with his knowledge about hacking and decoding all sort of droids, consoles and weapons. But he was poorly skilled with a blaster and not particularly smart in the midst of a battlefield. The result was him becoming a target, and when he did not do his techno magic he was more a liability than an asset. As a tease and mockery, some of the troopers started to call him Slip, short of slip-up. Unfortunately for him, the name stuck.  
  
“Hey, lay off. He’s getting better. Eighty-seven only needed to save him once this time,” she countered.  
  
Forty-two, the one that made a comment about Slip, shrugged a ‘whatever’ and moved on. The rest of her team ignored them as they retreated to their barracks. FN-4026 slowed her stride so that Slip could tag along with her at the back.  
  
“Thanks,” he said genuinely.  
  
“You’re welcome, Oh-three. But you need to be careful and step up your game. This may be a training simulator, but one day you are going to be out there and then it’s real blaster fire,” she began to scold but then sighed, easing off on him.  
  
“I know,” FN-2003 replied. “I’ll try.”  
  
In the barracks, FN-4026 dislodged her helmet. Sweat was pouring down her face and the coolness of the air was a delight on her skin.   
  
“They need to fix those cooling systems, it drives me crazy,” she huffed in annoyance as she unclasped her armour piece by piece.  
  
“You drive me crazy,” Thirty-six replied. His grey eyes taking her in. His comment earned him a hard punch to the shoulder that would seem playful, but there was also a warning in it.   
  
“Careful, Thirty-six. Do not underestimate women, especially not Twenty-six. She will sooner bite your head off instead of sucking on it,” another one replied with amusement. It earned some laughter and she could not help but to join in with a chuckle, though it was not really genuine. FN-4026 wasn’t sure if she liked this type of banter.  
  
She unleashed her blond hair from its tight bun and grabbed the black uniform they wore when they were relieved from duty and performing other tasks on the Starkiller base. The isolated shower that followed after was heaven to her muscles. After a quick lunch, her duties in the armoury required her attention for the rest of the day; cleaning, inspecting, counting and improving their supply of blaster pistols, rifles and other sorts.   
  
The next following days they continued training and each time the simulator changed the environment. So far they had trained into ice, swamps, forests and mountains. Eighty-seven had stopped actively helping Slip, but she noticed that if he came into trouble he managed to distract the enemy long enough for Slip to go into cover. Judging by the banter between the two, they were friends.  
  
The revelation made her reflect herself. In all of her life she did not have the luxury to develop friendships, being a naturally reserved individual. It wasn’t encouraged in the First Order, but those who did develop bonds were not scrutinized either, yet seeing it so open and publically made her uncomfortable.  
  
After two weeks, they had been training in the desert several times in a row. In sandstorms, the heat of the day and in the coolness of nightfall, but always in the desert. FN-2046 could not help but wonder why they had stopped cycling through the different simulations and even asked Captain Phasma, but that was fruitless. She was merely told not to question and just do it; just train. And FN-4026 did like the good trooper she was.  
  
Sooner than she knew she was once again standing inside the hull of a ship, the lights flickering to life revealing the rest of her motionless regiment like pale white ghosts. The bright artificial light casted sharp shadows that would’ve been frightening to her if she was not part of it.   
  
Captain Phasma was not present with them, travelling with Kylo Ren on a different ship as part of his personal guard. Her absence gave room for rebellious thoughts of why she wondered they were deployed on Jakku; a barren planet with only sand, rocks and a handful of settlements. Those who lived here either wanted to disappear from the rest of the galaxy or were stuck. The fact that Kylo Ren himself was travelling with them did not soothe her mind.  
  
_‘Search and extract,’_ were once again the simple orders given. The three simple words giving rise to nasty images she thought she’d oppressed. A woman, screaming and hugging the face of her child to her chest so that it would not see the blaster fire that it would end its short life.  
  
FN-4026 took a deep breath, steeling herself and stared hard at the back of her predecessor’s helmet. The ship touched down onto ground and she held her blaster rifle into an iron grip when the hydraulics hissed and the loading ramp was lowered. Instantly there was blaster fire and they ran out of the ship, taking cover immediately.  
  
Her predecessor, Thirty-six, was lying dead in the sand a few meters away from her position. FN-4026 swallowed hard and fired from her cover, her aim true and precise with the result of killing a few of those who were shooting at them.  
  
She had no time to think about it as she jumped from cover to cover, giving occasional covering fire and almost tripping over the dead that littered across the battlefield with her heart beating in her ears. Not wanting to know if it was one of theirs or _them_ she almost stepped on.   
  
But instead of dwelling FN-4026 pushed like she and those around here were trained to do. In a mere minute the small village was overrun, those who surrendered were rounded up like cattle and those who did not shot as an example. A chill settled over her spine when she spotted Kylo Ren, marching towards the supposedly village elder. Her Captain following him closely behind. A dark ominous feeling settled in her guts.  
  
“Where is it?”  
  
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” the elder bit back.  
  
“I know you have it. Give it to me and you and the rest of your village will be spared.” The deep voice of Kylo Ren resonated. Drowning out the whimpers of the scared.   
  
“You cannot deny what you are, deep inside,” the village elder called out, ignoring the subject. “There are more important things like this, things like _family_.”  
  
There was an exchange of words and then that brutal roaring sound of the red lightsabre haunted her ears. She witnessed its raw power as the Sith sliced through the man like he was butter in a clean swipe. The troopers that had been restraining the man were forced to take a step back.   
  
“NO!”   
  
Before anyone could react there was the sound of blaster fire, but with just a gesture from the Force-user it stopped in mid-air, the red beam of energy twitching and curling. It was disturbing that such a thing was possible.   
  
On instinct FN-4026 rushed with another trooper towards the man, who was in turn incapacitated by Kylo Ren’s use of the Force like the beam. Her fellow trooper punched him in the guts before they forced his hands on his back and hauled him forwards.  
  
A kick to the leg and pressure on his shoulders violently forced the man in a kneeling position in the sand in front of Lord Ren, amidst the remains of the elder. Being this close to the Force-user made FN-4026’s skin crawl. If it weren’t for her discipline she would have leant back and away from him. Something in her very being repelled him.  
  
“Who’s this?” Kylo Ren drawled slowly. He made the same gesture with his hand earlier and the man shuddered beneath her hold. FN-4026 felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.  
  
“A Rebel,” the Force-user muttered underneath his breath as if he was distracted by something. “You are here for the same purpose..”   
  
“I won’t tell you anything!” The man rebuked, struggling a bit underneath her hands. Her fellow trooper applied more pressure on the shoulder joint, earning a gasp of pain.   
  
“No need,” Kylo Ren almost chuckled. “I will get it eventually out of you. Take him away!”   
  
Hauling the man on his feet and not waiting until he regained his balance, FN-4026 and the other trooper dragged him toward Kylo Ren’s ship, where several other Stormtroopers awaited them.  
  
“Execute them,” was Captain Phasma’s command. “Leave none alive.”  
  
“NO! **NO!** ” The man roared, struggling heavily in their hold. He nearly managed to break free if it weren’t for the rest restraining him and putting on hand cuffs. Dragging him harshly away into the deep confines of the ship.  
  
FN-4026 had to let him go, and stood numb on the loading ramp. The screaming behind her was deafening and crippling her. In one tidal wave of blaster fire her nightmares that had plagued her were back, except now she wasn’t asleep. This was the truly frightening and terrorizing reality.  
  
The man’s words echoed in her head, but instead of his voice it was hers. Desperate and panicking, but not out loud. When the blaster fire finally stopped and the screams were silent, she turned around against her better judgement. The sight of the village engulfed in flames burned itself unforgivingly on her retina.   
  
This was the life she faced as a Stormtrooper.

**Author's Note:**

> Liked it?  
> Please review!


End file.
